


just want a moment with you

by witty_kitty



Series: Bottom Wilbur Standalone Works [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, And I have my own take on piglin culture, Biting, Bottom Wilbur Soot, Coitus Interruptus, Cumming Outside, Dirty Talk, Don’t be pissed — that’s on you, Fluff and Humor, Frottage, Grinding, M/M, Not maintagging this or using the SBI family tag so if you find this, Possessive Behavior, Power Bottom Wilbur, Riding, Schlatt POV, Sex Toys Under Clothing, They finally fucked!...on the floor lmao, Wilbur and Techno are both piglin hybrid twins, bathroom sex (interrupted), blowjob, boy in skirt, kitchen sex (also interrupted), possessive schlatt, slight dom/sub undertones but it’s not huge, top jschlatt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28154304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witty_kitty/pseuds/witty_kitty
Summary: Four times SBI cockblocks Schlatt and Wilbur, and the one time theyfinallyget to fuck.
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot, The SBI Family Dynamic + Tubbo
Series: Bottom Wilbur Standalone Works [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048960
Comments: 55
Kudos: 764





	1. four times

**Author's Note:**

> I burnt out several times trying to write this. Please just take it. I’ll come back and edit he first chap after posting the second.

**i. tommy**

Schlatt and Wilbur stumble into his house, and he can’t be bothered to lock the door behind them— not when there’s a beautiful little minx hanging off of him, pressing a line of kisses down his collarbone. His love’s face is flushed, a blotchy red thing that spreads down his neck and under his shirt.

“ _Schlatt_ ,” Wilbur moans out beautifully as he’s all but slammed into the wall, long legs wrapped around him like a spider. The ram-hybrid presses his mouth into the other’s, swallowing any other moans that threaten to escape. As much as he would love to just stand there and worship Wilbur’s mouth, he’s got other plans for how the day’s going to go, and he’s never been a patient man. “Schlatt, come on, hurry up—“

Just because he has plans, however, doesn’t mean he isn’t going to tease him.

“Hurry?” he says, pulling himself away from Wilbur’s swollen, shiny lips. He’s half tempted to go in for another taste, and the other’s pouty expression is _not_ helping him resist, but the plans he made earlier keep him from trying anything. “If we hurry, you’ll miss your surprise, sweetness.”

“Surprise?” Wil asks, curiosity ringing his voice as he catches his breath, and Schlatt can’t have that now, can he? He slips a hand under his shirt and twists a pert nipple under the fabric, relishing in the quiet gasp as long fingers dig into his shoulders.

“Mhm, just for you,” he says, nibbling at the soft flesh of the other’s ear lobes. It’s something he’s been planning for weeks, to thank his lover for the birthday gift a couple weeks back that was far sweeter than the cake and cookies served. “Can’t a man pamper his boyfriend a little bit?”

Wilbur rolls his eyes, shoving him lightly, thought the effect is dampened by the red tint of his cheeks and the prominent bulge in his pants. “When it comes to you, I’m not sure pampering is the right w _ord!_ “ Schlatt takes that moment to shove his hand into Wilbur’s pants and squeeze the other’s dick, eliciting a shriek that has Wil’s hands slammig down on his mouth in a poor attempt to stifle it.

“What was that?” he asks, playing dumb as he continues to grope the other. Wil’s still stifling his moans, and Schlatt’s just about done with it, grabbing his wrists and—

“Oi, Wilbur!” The door slams open, and they’re both shoving each other away, the man in question fixing his clothes and pulling down his sweater. Forcing a smile, Schlatt turns to face the... uninvited guest. Wil’s very annoying little bastard of a brother, Tommy, is there. “Phil wants you—“ the blonde trails off, taking them in. “Wait, you’re— are you _hard?”_

He can’t help the snicker that bursts out of his throat as Wilbur turns completely red. “You can’t just— Jesus, don’t just fucking say that, Tommy!”

“Wait a second, were you two fucking right in front of the door?” Tommy’s disgusted expression makes him laugh even harder. “Fucking hell, I need eye bleach! I didn’t need to see this!”

“Well, you see kid,” Schlatt smirks, completely ready to scar this kid for barging in on them, “Sex is a natural thing that happens when two people think the other person is really fucking sexy—“

“I know what sex is! I wrote a book about—“

“Tommy, nobody wants to hear about that awful goddamned book, _please shut the fuck up!”_ Wilbur grits out, clearly annoyed. What a shame. He kinda wants to see that book. “What does Phil want, Tommy?”

“He wants you back home! Shit’s happening, it’s a family matter,” he says with a pointed glance at Schlatt. Yeah, _very_ subtle. Jesus, he might as well have just told him to fuck off.

“What? Why?” his love frowns, keeping the edge of his sweater pulled over erection. Schlatt would laugh at that too if he weren’t severely annoyed and in the same situation. “He said I could have the day to myself.”

“Yeah, well it’s way more important. Ditch the guy, and let’s get outta here.” Wilbur glances at him, and he can’t just say _no_. He’s not that much of a prick.

“Y’know, I remember your brother having a healthy amount of hero-worship for me,” Schlatt says, walking over and holding the door open for them. The smile he gets from the brunette is worth it. “Where’d it go?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, goat boy,” the little fucker says, dragging Wilbur out by the elbow. “But believe me, now that you’re fucking my brother, you’ll never see it again. See you later, bitch!”

“ _Tommy!_ Fucking— sorry, Schlatt! I’ll make it up to you!”

“No worries, lover boy,” he hums, watching them climb on the kid’s horse and disappear. “No worries.” After all that preparation he’d gone through, it _was_ annoying to be blue-balled, but this was probably just a one-off thing.

Next time he gets Wilbur alone, there won’t be any interruptions.

* * *

**ii. techno**

He can’t get his fucking boyfriend alone.

At first, the emergency or whatever Wilbur’s dad had called him for just lasted longer than the other had thought, and that was fine. Annoying, sure, but Schlatt is a patient and understanding man when he wants to be.

But then another emergency happened, and then another, and then _another_ , and that’s how he finds himself in front of the door to Wilbur’s house, knocking on his door and ready to drag him to his house himself. “Wilbur!” he yells. “FBI, open up!” Maybe he should just take an axe to it — what’s a little griefing between lovers, after all?

And then an arrow lands at his feet. “ _Jesus fucking Christ_ , what the hell?” He looks up. Technoblade is staring at him from the second floor window, long pink hair messy and rumpled, clothes rumpled, and a completely unamused look on his face as he loads up his crossbow again. “ _Why are you shooting at me?”_

“Why are you screaming for my brother at eleven in the morning.”

...Fair enough.

“Is he there?” He and Techno are on fairly good terms, all things considered, so he’s hoping the other man will help him out. Still, Technoblade’s red gaze pierces through him, and for a few long, uncomfortable seconds they hold each other’s gazes, before Schlatt is forced to look away. Sighing, the pig-hybrid disappears from the window, presumably stepping inside.

“Schlatt!” After a few moments, Wilbur pops out with a smile as bright as the yellow of his sweater. Though he’s annoyed with the other, Schlatt can’t help the way his own lips quirk upward in response. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Yeah, well you would if you actually picked up your communicator, Wil,” the brunette winces at that, looking sheepish. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Sorry, but there’s been a lot of things happening lately. Feels like every time something ends, another thing just... pops up, you know?” He can’t see well from down here, but now that he’s really looking, Wilbur looks... stressed.

Well, it’s a good thing he knows one way of dealing with it.

“Why don’t you take some time off, sweetheart? You’ve been working so hard lately,” He makes sure to really wet his lips as he licks them, and Wilbur’s face turns a delicious shade of cherry-red. “I’ll take care of you.”

The brunette quickly composes himself, feigning nonchalance as he leans out the window. “Will you now?”

“Of course,” Schlatt’s half tempted to go up there and pin him down, fucking him until he’s oversensitive and crying for the whole neighborhood to see... though the thought of sharing such a pretty sight makes something curdle in the pit of his stomach. Wilbur’s for his eyes only. “I’ve still got your present, pretty thing.”

“You still haven’t told me what it is,” Wilbur points out. “For all I know, you could just be leading me on, to do who knows _what_ to my poor, poor self.”

“I can’t tell you what the present is, but I assure you, it _is_ there. But you want to know what I’ll do before showing it to you, Wil?”

“What?” He can’t keep his eyes off the way pearly white teeth bite into soft, puffy pink lips. For a second, his mind blanks, and Wilbur blinks, before his lips pull into a smirk. “Or maybe you’re all bark and no bite, Schlatt?”

“Oh, _darling,_ ” he chuckles lowly, “You don’t need to try that act with me. You know I’ll always give you exactly what you want.”

“Mm, and what do I want?”

“You want me to lay you out and _worship_ you,” and he _would_ , he’d go to the end of the worlds for Wilbur if he ever asked, “You want me singing praises to you as I sink into you, all hot and tight— _Jesus!_ ” Schlatt startles, stumbling back as another arrow whizzes past his face.

Technoblade scowls from where he’s at on the porch, loading his crossbow with another arrow. Wilbur has disappeared from the window, though he can’t question it when the Blood God himself is pointing a very enchanted, very _deadly_ crossbow in his face. “Technoblade, what the f— stop fucking shooting at me!”

“You’re fucking my brother,” he says flatly, like it’s the best explanation in the world, and then he’s pulling back to release another arrow. In that moment, his guardian angel arrives, trying to wrestle his crossbow out of his grip. “Wilbur, go back inside. I’m just trying to talk to him.”

“You call _this_ talkin— _shit!”_

“ _Why are you shooting at my boyfriend?”_ Wilbur (who is the most beautiful and amazing person in his life, Schlatt decides right then and there for stopping him from becoming goat kebab) demands, staring down his brother, “You didn’t seem to care yesterday! Or earlier!”

“I thought Tommy was _joking!_ ”

“I’ve told you guys about him! Hell, I’ve even brought him over for dinner!”

“You bring _everyone_ around for dinner, Wil, what am I supposed to think?”

_“We flirted throughout the entire thing!”_

_“I thought that was a bit!”_

Schlatt ends up leaving when Wilbur drags his brother inside to finish the argument. “ _I’m so sorry,”_ he apologizes again, pushing the door closed despite Techno’s banging. “So, so sorry about my younger brothers, Schlatt, I’ll make it up to you, I _swear—_ “

“Don’t worry about it, Wil,” he mutters tiredly. Really, he should have expected something like this — it’s Tommy and Technoblade after all. Craziness like this from them is to be expected. “It’s fine, seriously.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll be able to come over in the next few days because of this! With a _proper_ apology, of course,” Wilbur winks, and suddenly it’s all worth it.

Finally, some alone time between him and Wilbur.

* * *

**iii. tubbo**

True to his word, Wilbur is there a couple of days later, some homemade baked apology bread in hand. “Hello, love,” he greets Schlatt with a chaste kiss, “It’s finally just us now.”

_“Good,_ ” he all but growls as he shuts the door behind them. Schlatt keeps a hand on Wilbur’s waist as they head into the kitchen. “Did you make that yourself?”

“Of course! What do you take me for, Schlatt? _Lazy?”_ Wilbur huffs, trying to look mad, but the effect is ruined by the smile he has on his face. “I’ve brought only the finest, most high-quality piece of bread in the lands for you.”

“Is that so?” Schlatt hauls Wilbur onto the quartz island counter in the middle of the kitchen, nipping lightly at his neck. “What if I want something more?” Wilbur shudders underneath him as Schlatt’s warm breath tickles the edge of his ear.

“I d-don’t have anything else to offer you,” Wilbur stutters out as Schlatt lets a hand slip under Wilbur’s tacky yellow sweater. He ghosts over cool pale skin and lets his rough fingers brush over pert nipples, relishing in the way Wilbur shudders underneath him.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he says, leaning in to nip at Wilbur’s cherry red ears. “I can think of something.” His love buries his face in his shoulder, hips desperately rutting into nothing underneath him.

“ _Fuck,_ shit— it’s—“ Wilbur cuts himself off as his communicator buzzes. He doesn’t bother looking at it, instead tossing it to the side. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” _Gee, I wonder why?_ , Schlatt wants to say, but then slim fingers are running through his hair and rubbing the base of his horns, and he nearly creams himself right there.

“Low blow, you little shit,” Wilbur laughs, still breathless, sitting up and using his height advantage to lick a stripe up his horn. “ _Fuck!”_

“I dunno, Schlatt, from where I’m at, you’re the one looking pretty li _ttle!”_ Shoving his hand down Wilbur’s jeans, Schlatt wipes the smug smirk off his face as he gropes at Wilbur’s erection through his boxers. Hot breathy little pants escape pretty pink lips as Wilbur stares down on him with dark eyes, and dear lord, if that image doesn’t make Schlatt’s dick twitch, he doesn’t know what will.

Schlatt’s about to lean in, maybe for a kiss, maybe something more, he’s not sure, but then he sees _it._ The warm orange and pink hues of the setting sun filter through the window, and from where he is, Wilbur almost seems to glow as the sun backlights him, caressing the sides of his face and brushing the edges of his curls. He looks ethereal, a being from lands higher than the End itself.

Schlatt has to give Wilbur his present _now,_ preparations be damned. 

“Wilbur,” he starts, but before he can get another word out, the sound of his front door slamming open startles both of them.

_“Wilbur!”_ Before either of them can even _think_ to move, a young boy — _Tubbo_ , Schlatt belatedly remembers — is running in, panting heavily with an axe in hand. “Wilbur, thank god you’re—“ Tubbo’s face goes completely red as he takes in their compromising position, quickly moving a hand to cover his eyes. “Oh dear, I’m— I’ll— I thought _I’ll be waiting outside!_ ” Tubbo shrieks and runs out, effectively killing the mood and Schlatt’s boner.

“Schlatt...”

“Just— let’s go, Wil,” he sighs, smoothing down his sweater and running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t wait up for Wilbur, instead making his way to the ruins of his front door (Christ, what is it with Wilbur’s brothers and property damage?) and peering at the cherry red little boy who’s buried his face into his hands. “Any reason why you broke down my door, kid?”

Tubbo jumps, staring at him wide-eyes. “I’m sorry! Phil sent me over to give Wilbur to give you some food and iron as an apology, ‘cause of what Techno did, but then Wilbur wouldn’t pick up his communicator, and no one was answering the door, and—“

“S’all right, kid, seriously,” Schlatt says, because as annoyed as he is that he got cockblocked _again_ (this is the _third time_ for fucks sake), he’s also not a total asshole. “What’d you even bring, anyway?”

“A couples stacks of steak and iron,” Tubbo smiles, pulling a package presumably out of his inventory and handing it over. “Phil also wants to invite you over and get to know you for real, this time.”

“Oh, really?” That’s news, but he supposes it makes sense— from what Wilbur’s told him, Philza Minecraft is a good man and an even better father. “I’ll see if I can come over then. What day?”

“Uh, I’ll have to ask,” Tubbo says, “I’ll ask Phil to tell Wilbur to tell you the date... I guess I’ll just go, then. I am _really_ sorry about, um, interrupting you—“

“It’s fine, kid. Just drop it. Thanks for the food and stuff.”

“You’re welcome!” With that, the boy leaves. Wilbur enters a little bit later, his still flushed face freshly washed.

“How long were you eavesdropping?”

“Not long,” he hums, adjusting the collar of his sweater, “Didn’t feel right to interrupt when you two were having a moment, y’know?”

“Ah,” Schlatt steps forward, taking Wilbur into his arms and gently brushing his damp curls out of his face. “Well, now that we’re alone again...”

He presses a chaste kiss to Wilbur’s cheek, but the hand he starts to slip under his sweater is caught.“Not feeling it?”

“Surprisingly enough, Schlatt, having your little brother walk in on you is a complete turn-off,” Wilbur says, “Sorry, can we just cuddle or something instead?”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart, of course we can cuddle,” Schlatt says, pulling Wilbur by the arm to his couch. “I’m getting a lap full of beautiful either way.” They snuggle up together, and though he’s willing to just lie there with Wilbur in silence, he can’t deny the curiosity that sparks when Wilbur pulls out a book from his inventory.

He takes a look at the cover and raises an eyebrow “ _How to Sex 2_ written by Tommy Innit? Didn’t you say this book was a war crime or something?”

“Oh, it’s definitely awful,” he nods. “But you wanted to read it, and honestly? I think this book is one of those things that are just so bad they’re good, you know?” Schlatt nods sagely. “Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve done anything together.”

”The only thing better than bullying a small child’s writing with you, Wil, is bullying you,” Wilbur rolls his eyes, a playful smile on his face, “And right now, I can do both. I’m over the goddamn moon.”

“Fuck off.”

* * *

**iv. phil**

If a stranger was asked to describe Philza Minecraft, they would have called him a legend. The man has done things and gone places that others would dare not go, after all He has battled things that would make even the strongest men quake with fear. And to top it all off, he has raised one of the most fearsome fighters in the world.

If one of his sons were asked to describe him, they would call him a caring, relaxed father. A busy man, though he always makes time for his family. Not a single one of his four sons have a bad word to say about him.

If you asked Schlatt, however, he would tell it to you straight: Philza Minecraft _terrifies_ him. (And he’ll admit it out loud too! The man willingly goes into hardcore world! He’s trained Technoblade, and if that doesn’t say anything, Schlatt doesn’t know what will.

It doesn’t help that, despite appearances, the man’s not completely human either.)

He’s met the guy before, sure, but they hadn’t really _talked_ , just exchanged pleasantries before Schlatt had focused solely on his boyfriend. In his defense, though, he thought the man already knew* at the time and was okay with it.

Now, Schlatt knows that the man doesn’t know, and he has no idea how the man is going to react. That’s how he finds himself here, trying to psyche himself up to knock on the wooden door to his house.

_It’s just your boyfriend’s father, Schlatt. There’s no problems there. You’ve met the guy plenty of times! And Wil’s gonna be there too. It’ll be fine._

Before he can lose his nerve, he knocks on the wooden door and tries not to run away immediately afterwards. There’s a soft pattering of footsteps steadily approaching the door, and Schlatt braces himself... just to see Tommy staring at him. “Go away.”

“Oh god, it’s you,” Schlatt groans, “Listen kid, I’m not staying all that long. Just here to meet your dad, maybe chat over dinner—“

“Fuck, you’re the mystery guest? Ugh, can’t belive Tubbo wouldn’t tell me,” the little brat kicks at the floor, opening the door a little bit wider to let him in. “Now I’m gonna have to see you and Wilbur eye-fucking across the table.”

“I’ll make sure to do it only when you’re looking,” he says, letting the younger boy continue to talk and lead him to the dining room. As annoying as the kid is, their little banter has done wonders in easing his tension. He’s not completely de-stressed — the only thing that would probably completely relax him is Wilbur, and according to Tommy’s rambling that he’s half-tuned out, the brunette has been hogging the bathroom all day.

His flight instinct kicks in the moment they enter the dining room, because _Philza Minecraft is right there_ , and every cell in his body is screaming to jump out the window.

Schlatt smiles and holds out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Minecraft. I’m Schlatt.”

Phil grips his hand — jesus, he’s _strong_ — and shakes it. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” he says, humor in his voice. “Wilbur talks about you all the time.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“Of course,” Schlatt feels the stress starting to slip away as Phil motions for him to sit down. “You don’t need to be so nervous, you know. I don’t bite.”

“Ah, well,” How exactly do you explain that you’re absolutely terrified of someone to their face? “I heard you came back from a hardcore world recently?”

Phil brightens, opening his mouth to presumably start telling him about it, but Wilbur and Techno enter the room at that moment, and his breath stops. Wilbur looks beautiful, suited in a simple white dress shirt tucked into a loose black skirt that cuts off at about knee length. (There’s suspenders too, and as hot as they are, Schlatt _will_ tease the hell out of him about them later.) The simple black stockings are a nice touch, but the thing that _really_ gets him is the maroon silk tie around his neck.

It’s one of his ties. Schlatt knows because he can still make out the stain creeping onto the front of the tie that never washed out.

(He remembers why it’s there too— he had used it as a gag once when he had his way with Wilbur in a closet. So many people could’ve opened the door and seen what they were doing; the thrill of it made him shiver.

The stain itself is from when Wilbur had bitten his tongue through the gag hard enough to draw blood and bring tears to his eyes— not that it stopped the little minx from getting what he wanted.)

His love positively lights up upon seeing him. “Schlatt!” He runs over, and Schlatt resists the urge to elbow him as he rests his chin on his head. “Welcome!” Tommy makes gagging noises that Wilbur pointedly ignores, but Phil drags him into the kitchen to help set up, Tubbo following close behind.

“Hey, lover boy,” he greets. “Get your pointy ass chin off of my head.” The little shit hums, considering, before shaking his head.

“Nah.”

“You fucking bitch,” Schlatt says, but it’s out of fondness. Wilbur laughs, a wonderfully beautiful thing to hear, and then he’s dragging him to his seat at the table.

Dinner is surprisingly quiet affair, with the exception of occasional banter here and there. Technoblade even pulls him aside half-way through to apologize for almost trying to kill him. All in all, a fairly nice time for everyone.

And when Wilbur leads him to a half-bathroom tucked away from the rest of the house, locking the door behind him? Icing on the fucking cake. Slim pale hands are shoving him down onto the toilet, and then he’s got a lap full of pretty boy. “Someone’s handsy,” he hums, letting Wilbur run his hands under his shirt.

“You’re not the only one’s annoyed about being interrupted,” Wilbur says, squeezing Schlatt’s hips between his thighs as he ruts into him.

“Is this why we’re in a bathroom?”

“No one ever uses this one,” Wilbur nips at the edge of his ear, still rutting away, “Are you nervous someone will walk in?”

“I doubt it,” he snorts, dragging Wilbur’s lips to his by the collar of his shirt. He still tastes like the dinner they just had, of rabbit stew and mashed potatoes, and even though they just ate, Schlatt has room for more. Lightly nibbling at the bottom of Wil’s lip, he grinds up into him, swallowing the groan that escapes the brunet.

Wilbur opens his mouth to say something, but Schlatt presses their lips together and slips his tongue in. Gripping the curly brown locks, he shoves his tongue deeper in, relishing in the way he squirms on top of him.

“I’m just saying,” Wilbur gasps out as he pulls back for air, “A-Anyone could come right by. The walls are— _ah!_ Thin!” He yelps mid-sentence as Schlatt sucks at his neck, leaving behind shiny red hickeys.

“You’re starting to make me think you want to get caught, darling,” Wilbur’s breath hitches as his hot breath ghosts against the flushed, bite-ridden skin. “Pretty kinky, Wil.”

“ _Shut up,_ I—“

The soft sound of footsteps makes them both go silent, though he doesn’t stop grinding up into Wilbur. “ _What are you doing?_ ” The brunet hisses, before promptly burying his face into Schlatt’s neck to muffle a moan.

“It’s too faint— not from around here,” his hands move from Wilbur’s waist to under his rucked up skirt, feeling up smooth, creamy thighs, cotton stockings, and... leather? Schlatt glances down, and holy fuck, those are _sock suspenders._ “ _Jesus, Wil_.”

Wilbur lets out a breathless little laugh. “You like ‘em?”

“Of course,” he says, “You, dressed up and pretty, spread out on my lap... all just for me.” Letting his fingers trail up to the waistband of Wilbur’s boxers, dragging them down enough to expose his erection at half-mast. Wilbur’s breath hitches as he takes it into his hand.

”Y-You don’t know that,” the cheeky little thing stutters out, as if Schlatt _doesn’t_ have his dick in his hand right now, “Maybe I’m planning on seeing someone else after th _is!_ ” Wilbur yelps as he squeezes, bracing himself on Schlatt’s shoulders, wincing slightly at the dry friction.

“Don’t try to play coy with me, Wil,” he growls out, keeping a tight fist on him. “I _know_ there isn’t anyone else, and there won’t ever _be_ anyone else. It’s always just going to be me, got it?” Wilbur nods frantically, biting his lips raw in a desperate attempt to hold back his moans. “No, none of that. I want to hear you _scream_ my name loud enough that every single damn world knows you’re mine,” Schlatt spits into his hand before pumping Wilbur once, who jerks suddenly above him. “Say it. Say that you’re mine.”

There’s tears starting to brim in Wilbur’s eyes as the words start falling out of his mouth like a prayer. “I’m yours, I’m always yours, Schlatt, please, I already prepped and everything, I—“ Already prepped? While Wilbur continues to beg, he reaches around to Wil’s ass. There’s something, smooth and wooden, with a thick metal hook—

It’s a butt plug. He tugs lightly at it, relishing in the way Wilbur gasps and buries his face into the crook of his neck. _“Schlatt!_ ” The brunet all but wails, rutting desperately into his right fist. “Schlatt, I—“

The sudden rapping on the door has them both scrambling and shoving each other away. “Wilbur?” Phil’s voice can be heard through the door, soft and worried, “I heard yelling. Are you alright? You’ve been gone for a while.”

“Fine! Everything’s okay, Phil!” Wilbur shouts, pulling up his boxers and smoothing out his skirt. “I just, uh, slipped.”

“Alright. Have you seen Schlatt, by the way? I can’t find him, and I’d like to talk with him a bit more—“

“He... um, I think he went home? Sorry, something came up,” he lies through his teeth. “I’m gonna go see him, actually. I was just freshening up.” Schlatt shoots Wilbur a confused look, though he’s ignored.

“Be careful on the way there, son,” Phil says, and the two of them hold their breath, waiting for him to walk away. “Also... next time, if you’re going to lie, try to be a little quieter. The walls are thin, y’know?” Wilbur groans and buries his red face into his hands, the sounds of Phil’s fading laughter almost mocking to his ears.

“That’s it. We’re going to your house,” Wilbur grabs him by the arm, practically dragging him out of the room, ushering him to the door. “I have a horse, let’s go.”

“Wil—“

“Schlatt, if I do not have a dick in me by the end of tonight, I am going to lose my shit. I hate this fucking family _so much—“_

“You’re only pissed because you can’t get laid, Wil!” Tommy crows from upstairs, and Wilbur’s grip only gets tighter around his arm.

“At least I get some, you fucking child!” Wilbur flips him off, tugging him out the door. “C’mon, get on Frasier, we’re going—“

“Alright, alright, no need to push me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Schlatt and Wilbur: eye fucking and dirty talking in the middle of the day and out in the open
> 
> Technoblade: really? In front of my fucking salad?
> 
> (I really wanted to add that line but it didn’t make the cut ripppp)
> 
> —  
> Fic roster?? I guess:
> 
> 1\. Ghost!Schlattbur fucking  
> 2\. a touch of sable prequel  
> 3\. a touch of sable sequel  
> 4\. Quackibur + duck hybrid Quackity during mating season  
> 5\. Dreambur, Pre-Nov. 16 where Dream ‘persuades’ Wilbur to blow up Manberg 
> 
> It’s all bottom Wilbur, so stick around if you see something you like ig
> 
> **edit: if y’all are seeing a bunch of deleted comments, they’re all mine. I’m moving this from anon to main that’s why**


	2. one time

**i. the one time they actually manage to fuck**

The minute they get into the house, Wilbur is shoving him onto the hard wooden floor, only stopping to kick off his shoes and unbutton his shirt about halfway down before giving up and letting it stay. Schlatt’s never seen him this pissed off before, and frankly, it’s _hot_. “Christ, slow down—“

“Don’t tell me to fucking _slow_ _down_ ,” Wilbur hisses, nimble fingers already unzipping the zipper to Schlatt’s slacks. He doesn’t waste a second, pulling down his pants far enough to reveal his boxers and start mouthing at the beginnings of his bulge.

“Fucking hell, Wil,” the little shit hums, sending vibrations up his dick, “ _Shit_ —“ Schlatt grabs Wilbur roughly by the hair, forcing him off. “I said _slow_ _down_.”

“And I said I don’t want to,” Wilbur says like a whiny child, hands tugging down Schlatt’s boxers. “I’m taking control now. We’re going at _my_ pace.”

“Can I at least sit up? The wood’s gonna be hell in my back.”

“It’ll take too long.”

“Alright, alright, whatever, but if you get tired, I’m not carrying you up the sta- _irs!”_ His voice breaks as the brunet spits in his hand and starts pumping Schlatt’s half-hard erection to full length, teasing the tip with kitten licks. It doesn’t help that Wilbur holds his gaze throughout this, brown eyes dark with lust. A low groan escapes him, and he twists his fingers tighter in the other’s curls. “ _Wilbur_ —“ The little shit gives him a grin that’s all teeth before he’s peppering his fully-erect dick with wet, open-mouthed kisses, long fingers fondling his balls.

Schlatt wants to be pissed off — the fucker can tease, but he can’t wait two seconds to get to a bed? — but the site of Wilbur’s flushed face and shiny lips, precum smeared across his cheeks is enough to turn that anger into lust. He still gives Wilbur a piece of his medicine, though— when the brunet comes up to suck at his tip again, he tugs him down forcefully by his hair without an inch of remorse, relishing in the choked sound that escapes the other.

Thank god he doesn’t have any neighbors because the moan that escapes him when his dick is engulfed by a tight, wet heat could wake the fucking dead. Schlatt loosens his grip on Wilbur’s curls slightly as the other pulls back to adjust. (He doesn’t want to choke him to death or anything. Not until they’ve talked about it, at least.) The brunet starts up a steady clip, head bobbing up and down his dick slowly, occasionally dragging his teeth in a way that’s just right. He can already feel the knot starting to build embarrassingly fast in his stomach, but in his defense, it really has been a while since they’ve fucked.

(Schlatt has pumped one out a couple of times during their time apart, of course — it’s not fucking No Nut November or anything — but nothing can ever compare to the real thing.)

Wilbur must realize he’s close too, because the little fucker pulls off slowly with an obscene pop, licking his swollen lips as he smirks up at him. “What’s wrong?” He teases, sitting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do you need a minute?”

“Fuck off, Wil,” Schlatt hisses as the other man pulls off his own boxers, tossing them to the side. He can’t muster up any real heat, not when Wilbur’s straddling him and hiking up his skirt so prettily to reveal his own throbbing erection, angry red and wet with precum. He hasn’t forgotten about the plug though, pulling Wilbur closer and tugging on the hook. “T-Tell me how you put it in.”

Wilbur laughs, flushed and breathless. “I— I had to take it slow. Fingered myself one at time, I— fuck, I pretended it was you, but it wasn’t the same, Schlatt, it wasn’t enough—“ Wilbur cuts himself off with a gasp as Schlatt tugs on the plug a few more times. 

“Let me— fucking, I want to—“ he can’t get the words out, but Wilbur gets what he means, forcing himself to relax as Schlatt tugs the plug out with a satisfying pop. It’s a simple thing, tapered and circular, shiny wet and warm from being inside him for hours. (Just thinking about the fact that Wilbur had this on throughout dinner, always aware of it when walking around, sitting down, setting the table... it sends shivers of pleasure down his spine.) Excess lube dribbles out from Wilbur’s over-prepared hole, but the brunet catches it in his hands and uses it to slick up Schlatt’s dick, before carefully positioning himself over it.

“Ready, Schlatt?”

“ _Now_ you’re asking?” Schlatt raises an eyebrow, but any snark he might have had is quickly knocked out of him when Wilbur sinks down in one fell swoop. The sudden tight, wet heat makes him grab Wil’s hips, nails digging in to stop him from moving before he’s ready. Not that he would start moving, judging by the way he trembles and shakes, bracing himself on Schlatt’s thighs. Even though Wil’s not moving, curses spill out of Schlatt’s mouth almost on instinct. “Fucking shit, holy shit, _jesus_ —”

“ _Thank fucking god_ ,” Wilbur agrees, shutting his eyes and just sitting there. For a good few minutes, there’s only the sound of heavy breathing, before finally Wilbur starts squirming slightly in his lap, trying to adjust himself. He grimaces at the feeling of hard wood on his knees. “Fuck, maybe we should have done this on the bed.”

“You think?”

“Too late now,” he smiles, pushing himself up slowly. The drag of Wilbur’s walls around his cock leaves him gasping out a moan, fingers clinging to his thin hips like a lifeline. It’s almost painful how _slow_ Wilbur is going, and he desperately wants to at least thrust up into his lover, but the brunet’s sharp, knowing gaze combined with the nails digging into his thighs forces him still.

Even with no words, Wilbur still commands him, perched upon him like Schlatt is nothing more than his throne. He has no control in this situation, and somehow that makes him impossibly _harder_. His flushed face, red spreading down his chest and under his half-unbuttoned shirt, and swollen lips as he rides Schlatt will definitely help him through some warm nights, but right now, it’s shoved to the back of his head. Schlatt doesn’t have time for thoughts or higher-level thinking.

There’s nothing Schlatt can do right now but beg, and beg he does. “Wilbur, fuck, Wilbur, _please_ , I need to—“ The pace has become a steady clip, Wilbur bouncing steadily on his lap, and he can’t find his words. The brunet smiles, balancing on one hand as he uses the other to rub Schlatt’s horns.

“What do you want, love?” He asks sweetly, tilting Schlatt’s chin up to meet his gaze. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”

“You, fuck, I want to kiss you, taste you, please let me sit up—“

“Alright,” Wilbur slows to a stop and pulls off, and god, Schlatt nearly fucking cries at the loss, but he forces himself to sit up anyway. It’s not like he’s the only one affected; Wilbur’s legs shake and tremble, and whatever commanding aura he had dissipates as he sinks down again, a moan much louder and much sharper than before escaping his mouth as he buries his face into Schlatt’s shoulder, arms hooked around his neck.

Wilbur realizes what happened at the exact same time Schlatt does, face going impossibly redder. “W-Wait, Schlatt—“

“No slowing down, _remember?_ ” The ram-hybrid grins before grinding back up into Wilbur’s prostate, watching the brunet fall apart on top of him. “C’mon Wilbur, start moving, or else I’ll take over.” The brunet shakes his head, still hiding his face in his shoulder.

Well, he did warn him. Wilbur lets out a strangled yelp as Schlatt starts to stand up while still inside him, legs locking together as he clings on for dear life. ” _Schlatt?_ ” It’s a little bit uncomfortable, he has to admit. Wilbur’s not heavy by any means, but he’s definitely tall, and not for the first time, Schlatt’s happy that he stuck to his exercise regime.

He ignores Wilbur’s questioning moans, instead making his way over to the couch and all but throwing him onto the cushions. It has the unfortunate side effect of pulling Wilbur off his dick, but he’s quick to hike up the other’s skirt and force his legs apart, entering in one swift motion. “It’s my turn,” he says, before pulling out and ramming back in, making sure to hit that spot. Judging by the way Wilbur shoves his fist into his mouth to muffle a scream, he has.

“None of that, Wil,” Schlatt says as he pins the other’s arms to the sides. He wants to hear every little noise Wil makes, a beautiful symphony that’s just for him. Two pale legs hook behind his back, forcing him closer as Wilbur tugs one arm out of his hold and lets it snake downwards. He doesn’t bother to stop it.

“ _Schlatt_ ,” Wilbur all but begs, his throbbing red cock slaps against his stomach and spreading wet, sticky precum with every thrust. He looks completely fucked out, usually well-kept hair messy and tangled, face flushed and covered in dry precum as he steadily pumps his erection. The wide expanse of his neck, however, is pale and smooth and completely out of place, but fortunately, Schlatt can fix that.

He leans in, sucking at Wilbur’s neck, leaving a trail of bruising hickies above Wil’s neck for the whole world to see. It’s beautiful, and it’s not enough. Schlatt has to make sure that there is absolutely no doubt that Wilbur is off-limits. There’ll be time for more permanent solutions later, but right now all he can do is bite down as hard as he can, ignoring Wilbur’s wail or the way his legs tighten around his back.

There’s iron in his mouth as he draws back, and Schlatt doesn’t hesitate to shove his lips onto Wilbur’s, letting the spit wash the taste out of his mouth. He absolutely devours the other man, keeping up the bruising pace and swallowing any gasps or moans that escape the body under him. Nothing exists anymore except for him.

He doesn’t even realize Wilbur is cumming until his walls are clamping around him like a vice, legs trying to lock Schlatt’s in place as he tenses and cums in between them. 

“ _Schlatt,_ ” Wilbur says as he pulls back, tears in his eyes, licking up the strand of saliva between them. “Schlatt, do you remember when you said you’d do anything for me?” His words are urgent, but Schlatt doesn’t pause, only nodding.

“Y-yeah, of course. I meant every word I said if that’s why you’re asking.”

“Good. Pull out,” Wilbur says, and his brain goes blank. _What?_ “Pull out.” He says, more firmly.

“Wha— why?”

Wilbur flushes, biting his lip and glancing to the side almost nervously, before sucking in a breath. “I want— I want you to cover me in your cum. Want you to paint me with it.” He looks embarrassed about the admission, almost expecting to be denied, but by god, Schlatt’s not going to be the one to deny him. “ _Please._ ”

He pulls out. What else can he do?

It doesn’t take long for him to wrap his hand around his dick and cum, not when Wilbur is all spread out and pretty under him, skirt and sock-clad legs splayed out to reveal his flagging red cock, bites marks and a splotchy blush on the parts of his chest his half-unbuttoned shirt. He looks like a fucking porn star— the good kind of porn, the one that Schlatt would pay stacks of diamonds and emeralds for. Still, it’s no less earth-shattering when he cums, streaks of white coating Wilbur’s chest, some of it reaching his chin.

The brunet drags one finger across his chest, coating it in the sticky white substance, and Schlatt can’t look away as he sucks it off. “Thank you,” Wilbur says sweetly, a coy little smile on his face as Schlatt stares.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, collapsing back onto his couch. Wilbur laughs and shuts his eyes, clearly drained. It’s up to him now, he supposes, to clean everything up. Schlatt stands and stretches, moving towards the stairs. “Wait here, I’ll get something to clean up with.”

He makes sure to grab Wilbur’s present and some spare changes of clothes while he’s up there. This isn’t exactly the situation he thought he would be presenting it in, but if he doesn’t do it now, he’s not going to get a chance to do it later. Wilbur’s sitting up by the time he gets down stairs, already stripped nude, his dirty clothes in a small pile on the end of the couch. Schlatt ignores the way his dick twitches at the sight and tosses him a washcloth and some clothes. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Wilbur says. They get cleaned and dressed in comfortable silence, and as Schlatt tries to figure out how to segue into giving Wilbur his gift, said man breaks the silence with the perfect question “Hey, whatever happened to that gift you wanted to give me?”

“I have it right here actually,” he says, trying to quell the nervousness pooling in his belly. He pulls out the gift — two simple blackstone and gold bracelets. It’s not a lot, but from what Wilbur had told him of piglin culture, it should mean what he thinks it means, right?

Wilbur goes still as he takes his hand and slides one onto his left wrist, placing the other in the palm of Wilbur’s hand. “This is... oh, Schlatt, this is— I didn’t think you remembered when me and Techno talked about it.”

“Course I did, darling,” he says, letting Wilbur slide the ring onto his right wrist. Admittedly when he first heard about matching bracelets being a promise between friends and lovers to stick by each other’s sides no matter what, he had been wary. Was he ready for that level of commitment?

Now, though... looking at Wilbur, dressed in his clothes, smiling like a fool because of him? He wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his days with him, and he wants Wilbur to know it.

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer, Schlatt presses a kiss to Wilbur’s forehead. “You ain’t getting rid of me, sweetheart. Not now and not ever.”

And when Wilbur smiles, kissing him back? Schlatt knows it’s the same for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mom says I can make my own rules for piglin culture!! (also,, this fic now has piglin twins wilbur and techno but wilbur’s human passing in this one bc I didn’t write it in until last second whoops)  
> ((I should probably mention this now but whether or not Wil is a hybrid and how many traits he’ll have changed every fic. I’ll mention it if it’s important.))  
> ((Also yeah Schlatt basically gave him the equivalent of a promise ring. I’m a romantic but I’m not a romantic enough to have him propose in a fic lmao. I will have to do some consummation sex tho. Maybe demon wedding. Hm. I’ll think on that one.))
> 
> Fic roster was updated, btw!  
> 1\. Schlatt/Wilbur/Dream fic, requested by an anon  
> 2\. Ghostbur and GSchlatt  
> 3\. & 4\. touch of sable prequel and sequel  
> 5\. Quackibur  
> 6\. Dreambur


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